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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25705414">Tainted Hearts</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/ethernalbane/pseuds/ethernalbane'>ethernalbane</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Power Rangers, Power Rangers Dino Thunder</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Blood and Gore, Brother-Sister Relationships, Eventual OC/Casey Rhodes, Language, Mention of Past Rangers, Strained Friendships, Strained Relationships, Violence, legacy, powers</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 09:01:23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,296</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25705414</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/ethernalbane/pseuds/ethernalbane</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Moving away from Angel Grove was supposed to be a fresh start. But the way Reese saw it, she was simply getting away. Away from the formerly monster-infested city, from the spandex-wearing heroes, and broken promises. Reefside had to be better, right? Wrong. Because this time, she wouldn't be another civilian in need of saving, but chosen for something greater.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Krista/Conner McKnight, Tommy Oliver/Hayley Ziktor, Trent Fernandez-Mercer/Kira Ford</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Introduction</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I do not own anything Power Rangers related; TV show, movies, etc! Pretty upsetting, I know. I also do not own any recognizable/copyrighted/trademarked material that may be mentioned. I just like to play with the awesomeness that are the characters and their stories! I do however claim the rights of my original character(s) and their plots.</p><p>That being said, this story will be Original Character centric, as my main character(s) and the POV you will mostly be reading from, is a character(s) I've created. My original character(s) will have their own take on the Ranger world and their own experiences.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Coming together is a beginning. Keeping together is progress. Working together is success.”</p><p>- Henry Ford</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <span class="u"> <strong>The Cast</strong> </span>
</p><p> </p><p><span class="u"></span>Inbar Lavi as Reese Corbett</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>James Napier as Conner McKnight</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Kevin Duhaney as Ethan James</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Emma Lahana as Kira Ford</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Jason David Frank as Dr. Thomas Oliver</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Jeffrey Parazzo as Trent Fernandez-Mercer</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Ismay Johnston as Hayley Ziktor</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Helena Carter as Evelyn Corbett</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>The rest of the cast as their respective characters.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Trial and Error</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Why the hell the institution was called a ‘school’ was far beyond her comprehension. As one was typically given to understand from reliable sources as ‘the internet’, schools were generally charged with promoting feelings of togetherness and cooperation. What togetherness and cooperation were supposed to look like, she wasn’t quite certain, but it probably included an excessive amount of smiling and friendships and shit.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She expected the so-called ‘school’ to be like every other within the country - suppressing its students of their freedom and creativity. Quite literally. Many were known to have entire buildings, if not gates - dirty, rusting bars of steel - barricading hundreds within its grounds. And the interior designing was simply outdated. How many times can one confuse a laminate desk for a wooden one? Though she had to admit, it did a damn of a job masquerading as so. She didn’t even want to begin with the checkered tile floors. Or the blandly beige walls - which at one point may become a mural. This particular set of design could be found within the most public and prestigious of schools. Then there were the teachers. They had all been fresh-faced and ready to shape the crap out of some lives, but years of apathetic teenagers left them in what she’s come to known as complete and utter assholes. All in all, the building was dedicated to enforcing today’s youth in the same way it has done for the past hundreds of years. As fucking prisoners.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And there was nothing that bothered her more than the corrupt system. The entire institution was built upon conformity and obedience. It’s literal purpose - which many fail to take notice or accept - is to rid you of any independence, in an attempt to make you a mindless subject of the state. It's in every curriculum. As long as you abide by the rules and guidelines, will you fit into society. Because school doesn’t teach you </span>
  <em>
    <span>how</span>
  </em>
  <span> to think rather </span>
  <em>
    <span>what</span>
  </em>
  <span> to think. Only then will you graduate as an educated individual.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Twelve years. Time to do the math. That was seven hours of the day, five times a week, ten months out of the year. Which excluded the other few years dedicated towards a higher education. Because the institution didn’t quite teach what really mattered, like: mental health, managing finances, or laws. Nevermind learning about countries outside their own. No, that came later in higher education with the price of thousands of dollars and even more time. It was all a giant pile of shit. And she would rather chop off her own arm than spend a minute, let alone another year, under the rule of this god-forsaken institution. Yet, here she was, arms crossed over her chest, basking in the shadows of the building.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Welcome to high school.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So, do all transfers have one-on-one meetings with the head-shrinker, or am I just special?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>In her opinion, Reese didn’t need therapy. Therapy was for people who were going through a difficult stage in their lives and needed help through the process - a means in becoming functional, normal members in society. Was Reese going through a difficult stage? In the technical sense, yes. Yes, she was. But who wouldn’t when their parents recently divorced? And how the hell is therapy meant to help her? Reese didn’t need someone telling her what her issues were. She was already entirely aware of them. And as far as she was concerned, it was in her right to deal with said issues when she chose to. But, sadly, being a minor stripped you off of those rights. In summation, her parents were forcing her to attend a meeting before the start of the school year. Tomorrow.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Actually,” the elder woman, who’d initially introduced herself as Ms. Anderson, mused idly, “my official title is ‘school counselor’. Though my position in this school isn’t why we’re here.” The woman was a rather plain-looking woman. Her figure was hidden by the too-big-of-a-size suit, white, bobbed hair, and thick-framed glasses. A feat in which nearly every therapist Reese has ever encountered, had. But that may be more of a coincidence than not. “Is it?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A sigh left Reese’s lips. “I guess not.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Shall we begin?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I actually have a proposition,” Reese straightened in her head and smiled, almost conspiratorially. “Why don’t we skip the whole interrogation and have a proper conversation? You know me and I avoid that - biased - biography you called a file. It’ll be a win-win.” Her proposal was met with an unamused expression. “Or we can open the file and get it out of the way. It’s a little too thick for my liking.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span> “Alright.” For the most part, Ms. Anderson remained unfazed by Reese, not that she was providing much to begin with. The woman either stared, listened, or simply breathed. Ms. Anderson opened the file and began to skim through the contents, her eyes darting across a page. “Reese Corbett,” the woman murmured under her breath. “You’re transferring here from Angel Grove. It looks like you’re taking above grade-level courses, have perfect grades, and perfect attendance...” her words trailed off as she continued to read. “Past extracurriculars include theatre, academic decathlon, student government-” and then the words just stopped. The woman frowned at the page and glanced up at Reese with a questioning expression on her face. “Martial arts?” she demanded. She glanced up and down Reese’s form, taking in her appearance.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Monster. Infestation.” Reese blinked in bemusement. “I’m sure you can put two-and-two together.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Reese had to hand it to the woman, she certainly didn’t waste any time. She was unlike any of her previous therapists. Her former therapists usually took numerous sessions to touch on the subject or simply didn’t get the chance too. It usually started with the ‘why martial arts’ and progressed to ‘how was life in Angel Grove’ and soon enough they were expecting her to share every intimate detail about her life. But Reese had no intention of opening up to a complete stranger. Had she wanted to, she’d write an autobiography and make a little cash out of it. A bit more productive if she did say so herself. But seeing as this was a career, Reese was all too familiar with the scenario, and its tactics.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It must’ve been difficult for you.” For the first time since Reese stepped into the room, a genuine expression appeared on Ms. Anderson’s face and it made her internally groan. It was a look Reese had seen plenty of times throughout the process. Sympathy. Reese didn’t want sympathy. Reese didn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>need</span>
  </em>
  <span> sympathy. There was literally no point in someone ‘understanding’ or ‘feeling sorry’ about her situation. None. It certainly didn’t make anything better. If anything, it was a big pain in the ass. “To live in a city like that - it must be hard.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah,” Reese replied casually. “It’s a real tale of woe. If you really wanna talk about problems, let’s bring up the lack of film. I think it’d make a pretty great movie, but picking a cast might be a little difficult. Do you think Power Rangers take diversity into consideration when assembling a team?” It was a genuine question; however, a response was never made. Disappointing really. Not that Reese expected an answer, but she did wonder. So many questions, so little information. But the fact in the matter was Reese’s blatant efforts in dodging the unavoidable subject.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>By the look on Ms. Anderson’s face, she too, caught onto those efforts. “Perhaps I’m not saying what needs to be said.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And what needs to be said?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You weren’t given a choice on who to live with.” Eyes peered into Reese, looking for the smallest of reactions. It wasn’t until now that Reese felt vaguely anxious, as though the woman was looking right through her, analyzing every physical aspect she might give away. “Would you have preferred to live with your father?” Reese didn’t respond or react. “Miss Corbett,” Ms. Anderson began, her voice managing to be soft and harsh at the same time, “part of my job is making your transition to Reefside High as easy as possible. In order to do that, it’s important I know the needs and wants of my students. As far as I’m aware, you’re officially one of said students.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Reese would’ve found the direct approach admirable had it been in any other circumstance. “Can’t you just read the file?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, I have,” Ms. Anderson admitted, nodding along with her words. “A couple of times, actually. Divorced parents, two seperate homes, a new city - it's a life changing experience. Yet, I can’t help but get the impression that’s not why you’re here. Contrary to what you made your parents believe.” Damn. The woman was good. She had gotten one over on Reese and they both knew it. “Tell me, Reese, what is it that you want?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Other than this conversation to be over?” A pensive expression etched on Reese’s face. “I gotta say, nobody’s ever asked me that before. I want...magical powers, I want world peace - you’ve always gotta say you want world peace - and I want that movie I mentioned earlier.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why are you here?” Ms. Anderson pried. “Why leave everything behind? Your family-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I </span>
  <em>
    <span>don’t</span>
  </em>
  <span> have a family,” Reese snapped, eyes widening for the slightest of seconds. She grimaced, knowing she’d made a mistake. As soon as those words left her mouth, she’d revealed information, but she couldn’t help it. It was an instinct. An instinct she immediately regretted. As soon as they came, Ms. Anderson had thrown herselves back into the file, a little too excited for her liking.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mike and Leo Corbett,” Ms. Anderson murmured, stopping at a specific page. So much for personal records. “They’re your older brothers? Graduates of Angel Grove High?” She looked to Reese for a response, but apparently the expression on Reese’s face was enough to confirm the question. “It says here they reside on Mirinoi.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah,” Reese answered immediately. “Can we move on, please?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ms. Anderson stared at Reese blankly for a few minutes. “Reese, they might live on another planet, but that doesn’t mean they’ve forgotten about you.” Once again, Reese decided to not speak. And she would’ve continued doing so, hadn’t Ms. Anderson continued. “You can keep avoiding this all you want, but until I’m satisfied with the conversation, you won’t be leaving this room.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fine.” Reese grabbed a peppermint from the bowl on the desk and began wrinkling the paper in between her fingers, throwing the hard candy in her mouth. “Back when Terra Venture was still around...Mike had gotten a job at the space colony. A soldier and second in command. When he did, he constantly reminded us about the day he’d leave. I never knew if he was reassuring us or himself.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And Leo?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Reese bit her lip as her eyes began to ache. “Ever since Leo was a little kid, he wanted to be exactly like Mike. Finding a new world was no different. He asked me to help him sneak into Terra Venture and I did. He promised he’d come back - that there was no way I’d be left behind.” She lifted her hands in the air, gesturing to herself. “Guess he forgot.” It wasn’t until a metallic taste filled her mouth that Reese realized she’d bitten through the skin of her bottom lip. She cleared her throat, forcing back the tears. “Look, I just want to forget about my life in Angel Grove. Can’t that be enough?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tick, tick, tick. The silence that followed was one Reese had never experienced before, and she’d had her fair share. It was deafening. Tick, tick, tick. The wall clock echoed in her ears, leaving Reese to glance at it. Tick, tick, tick. All of a sudden, the ticking caused an emotion she was all too familiar with. Fear. Live long enough in Angel Grove - witness the many attacks upon the city - and you’ll learn to live with it. This time felt different. Almost like a countdown. As if the clock was trying to tell her something, but she didn’t have the slightest clue as to what. All she knew was that it made her want to sprint out of the building. Tick, tick, tick.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What electives are you interested in taking?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Reese had never been more eager to talk about school until then. And compared to the session, the next fifteen minutes or so was bearable. Brochures were handed, suggestions were made, advice was given. And as Ms. Anderson handed Reese her schedule, the meeting had finally drawn to a close.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She didn’t wait to be excused nor did she thank the woman for her unwanted time. Reese merely bolted out of the door and through the hallways. It wasn’t until she exited the building that she finally let out a breath, grateful that the therapy session had come to an end. And as she took a moment to view the layout of Reefside High, she realized the differences than that of Angel Grove High. A fountain. A Large courtyard. No gates. Yet, those quite refreshing changes couldn’t stop those unnerving feelings. In an attempt to ignore said feelings, she glanced down at the schedule in her hand and grimaced as she read what would be her first class of the day.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I hate science.” </span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Feedback is always encouraged and adored! Seriously. I'd love to know your thoughts throughout this writing process! If you feel as if I'd feel annoyed with a review on every chapter, don't! Feedback feeds my muse, as any other authors. And if you're a silent reader, you are still just as appreciated!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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